


Breach

by Ozymandi4s



Category: SCP Foundation
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/F, F/M, Gangbang, Multi, Non-Consensual Tickling, Smut, Tentacle Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-01-02 11:57:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21161282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ozymandi4s/pseuds/Ozymandi4s
Summary: 4000 Monsters to choose from.4000 options on what to make next.So many ideas, so many I can bend to me and my fans twisted desires and fantasies.Oh god. How could a girl ever possibly hope to resist?





	1. SCP-1471

_BA-DUM!_ Your phone chimes. Pulling it free of the confines of your pocket, you scrutinize the photo you had just been sent.

It was a seaside dock, a rather nice image that caught the sunlight upon the many boats moored. You recognize the dock, it was a place you'd often hang out at in your free time, enjoying the beauty and peace it provided. 

Clicking on the icon of whoever just sent it to you, you are brought into your phone's AppStore, on display being that weird app you downloaded out of curiosity a couple of hours ago. Said app promised whoever downloaded it company and freedom from loneliness, at first you thought it was some sort of dating app, but nope, cause once the installation was done nothing happened, no icon or window, or even a way to open it.

But now, it was sending you photos. At first thinking nothing of it, you started to notice the pattern as time went on. They were all pictures of places you've been to, and with each one, they got more and more recent, until finally, they seemed to be following you, this being confirmed when one image is a close up of you, most disturbingly being where you are currently standing.

Glancing around, you send a reply.

_WTF? Who is this?_

Your response is another, showing you with head down, texting, the eye-catcher being what was right next to you.

A person, or at least you thought it was. Dressed in some sort of costume covered in shaggy black fur, with a porcelain mask covering their face, said mask like the skull of a wolf.

Again you look around, finding nothing. That's impossible, no way they could have gotten that close without you noticing.

Once you reach home, you lock the door, blinds closed and lights dimmed.

_BA-DUM! _Your phone informs you of another picture, and with a steadily mounting sense of dread, you realize this one was of your front door. 

Not a moment later, **_BANG! BANG! BANG! _**As something rapped itself off the wood.

"Go away!" You scream in fear. 

You phone chimes three times in quick succession, each of the three images showing their sender putting some distance between itself and your house, all you could see of them being their fingers, black and furry and tipped with curved talons. You stay indoors all of tomorrow, receiving no messages, but come the day after, you get one, a wide-shot of your home.

Remembering it left when you told it to, you send a message. _Knock three times, gently._

After a beat of silence, _Tap, Tap, Tap._

_Go to the window._

It replies with a question mark.

_The big one_. You specify, _In front of the driveway._

It shows it is there now. 

Swallowing your fear, you grip the curtain, inhale deeply, and then pull it back. Sunlight fills the dark living room, making you squint. Outside was, well, outside, the rest of your neighborhood, and nothing else. 

_Where are you?_

It sends a photo of you standing in the window staring at your phone. It was right in front of you, but you could not see it, or at least until you saw what was peering over your shoulder as you text. 

You spin around, heart thudding, and there it is.

At least six foot four, maybe taller, entire body save its head covered in glossy dark fur, which due to it being so close, you could see it was, in reality, a deep blue, not black.

A wild mane of this fur falls down its back like hair, hair upon a head that had no flesh. Indeed, it was a skull, wolf-like in appearance, but from its slightly open jaw you could see something wiggling around in its mouth, for rather than it be a single tongue, instead, it was a cluster of deep purple tendrils, flitting in the air to taste it like a snake.

Head tilted, the creature does what you never would have expected. It raises one clawed hand and gives a shy wave.

Not know how to react, you wave back, gaping at the beast, which folds its lanky arms behind its back, seemingly waiting for you to do something. Again you recall how it followed your orders, you give a simple one. 

"Sit."

The three-toed paws that were its feet bending its weirdly structured knees to take a seat on the floor right there. "What are you?" You ask it. _BA-DUM! _Goes your phone, rather than it be a photo, instead, you have words. _You're lonely. You picked MalO because you wanted MAlo's company. MalO will be your friend. MalO will keep you happy._MAlo, so that's its name. 

"Okay then, Malo. What will you do?" 

_What do you want MalO to do? MalO is your friend. A friend will do what they can to keep each other happy. MalO will keep you happy. MalO is your friend. They will keep you company. _You shrug, not knowing what to do, how to respond. Tentatively, you extend one hand, MalO as still as a statue, pure white eyes watching intently. Your fingers make contact with its throat, and in reply, MalO lets out a rumbling purr. They are soft, silky and warm. They are real, this isn't some sort of dream.

You almost jump when your phone chimes again.

_Is Malo soft? Do you like MalO's fur? _You nod, kneading your fingers into the fluffy material, MalO sighing contently. 

_MalO will keep their fur clean and soft for you. MalO will keep you happy._

Not noticing it, MalO had taken your phone wielding hand in their's, they gasp and then tilt their head. _You are not happy :(_

You ask them what they are talking about. _You are lonely. You look at pictures to feel better._ It is then you realize that by some means, touching your phone allowed MalO to see your search history, face taking a red tint in embarrassment.

_MalO will make you happy. MalO is your friend._ They grip your wrist, gently guiding your touch towards their chest, which is suddenly much plusher than it was before. "Whoa, slow d-down." You stutter as she, for indeed that is what MalO now is, lays your palm on her breast, letting out a husky sigh that makes blood begin to flow into your groin.

She says nothing, groaning as your probing hands find her nipples, tweaking them to erection, one hand on the back of your head, stroking your hair in encouragement. She flicks one of her tongue tendrils, tasting your forearm as your massaging of her body continues.

She's on her back now, your cock pressing painfully into your jeans, which suddenly feel terribly confining. As such, you remove them, MalO purring in admiration at your twitching member, wrapping her silky soft paw around the base as you mount her chest.

She opens her maw, and rather than feel disgusted, you instead moan softly when her many tentacle tongues begin to stroke and rub your girth, lathering it in spittle, using them to hold it steady. This frees up her hands to mash her tits together, enveloping your shaft in their warmth.

MalO gurgles, tugging on your cock to pull it into her maw, past her fleshless jaws to be inserted directly into the hot wetness that is her throat. Your eyes roll back in delight, hips rocking to slide yourself in and out of her mouth, which creates a series of wet squelches as it enters and exits.

She takes one lanky hand downward, out of sight, but the motions it makes, coupled with the knocking of her knees tells you what it was doing. Two white orbs stare up at you, filled with love, strands of saliva leaking from her mouth as she lavishes your cock with sweet precision, tongues mapping out every square inch of it, enjoying its scent and taste and texture, made all the better by the sweet noises the both of you make.

In due time, your breathing quickens, as do the pace of your thrusts. With a heavy sigh, face flushed, your balls tighten, causing your dick to twitch as it empties its load into the mouth of the creature. She moans all the louder, loving the salted cream being shot right down her gullet, and keeping you hilted until the very end.

You pull out, cock shining and still rock hard, MalO toying with the head with the point on one claw, before using her other fingers to show you the main course. 

Nestled between her supple legs, the fur around it glistening from her lust, is MalO's pussy, which is soon being penetrated by your finger. She gasps, walls hugging your digit, hot and wet and so wonderfully tight as your curl your finger, teasing the sensitive flesh inside, her little clit throbbing as it fills with blood. 

You remove your finger, replacing it with your cock, easing yourself into her folds. Although they part easily, once inside they squeeze down, and oh god is it perfect. 

Just tight enough to make you moan the loudest, just wet enough to slide back and forth with ease, and just hot enough to leave your face red. Its as if she made it be just for you, and right now it was. MalO whimpers, mewls like a kitten as you begin to buck your hips. She writhes under you, plays with her tits and uses a thumb to stimulate her engorged nub, this display serving only to make you hornier, make you rail her cunt harder.

Each slap of your balls against her crotch sends waves of bliss down your back, a hand placing one of MalO's legs on your shoulder, other gripping her throat to use it as support. The three toes on her foot curl up, breathing deep and heavy, many tongues, some still with your cum dripping from them loling out, and when at last you can stand no more, MalO having stained the floor with her own orgasm long before you even reached yours, you drawback and use all the force you can muster to bury yourself into her pussy, which greedily milks all your offer her. 

Heart thudding like a drum in your ears, you nuzzle into her breasts, popping one nipple into your mouth and suckling it like a child. She lets you do this, having lost the strength to do anything else. 

You almost don't hear it when your phone goes off again, and with what little energy you have, you read her message. 

_Happy? :)_


	2. SCP-2521

Describe it. That is what the voice that boomed over the intercom had told you.

Flanked by kevlar clad men gripping assault rifles, you had been ushered into this cramped room, the only decorations being a table illuminated by a single bare lightbulb dangling overhead.

Fear gripped you, you remembered what happened the last time you were here.

On the table lay photos, photos that showed...It.

A creature, its body midnight black, long, wispy tendrils dangling from its limbs, the tendrils atop its weirdly shaped head falling down its broad-chested bodies back like a cape.

You had been told to pick up the pencil and write a description of this being.

You do so, the sound of lead on paper the only sound besides your breathing. When you were done, you ask what to do next, getting only one word in reply. "Wait." And so you do, it did not take long before the realization set in. The overwhelming feeling that someone or something was in the room with you. You turned around, and there it was. 

It was just as it was in the photo, but being this close let you see that these tentacles were not just on its limbs, no. Instead, you realize that this being was made out of them, wrapped over each other in layers like the linen of mummies. It looms almost twice you, head bent down to stare at you with a single red orb set in the center of its otherwise featureless face.

You freeze, you go rigid, unable to react, unable to do anything but gaze in awe at this alien being, even as it walks right past you to stare at the table, the long, slimy lengths at the end of both its arms coiling around each other to form a hand, which it uses to pick up the paper you had wrote on.

It stays like this, just looking at the writing, transfixed, admiring, using its other tentacles to trace over every letter, before then hugging it close to its chest. 

A soft, keening whine echoes, how the creature made such a noise unknown, but it does it again, adding a series of wet, gurgling clicks that you thought might have been laughter. Holding the paper like a sleeping infant, the creature takes a step forward, and then its entire body pitches down, like it just walked off a cliff, body sinking right into the floor and vanishing.

You didn't sleep well that night, the alien intelligence of its crimson eye boring into yours having ingrained itself in your mind. The next day, you were put back in this room, your new order is to use words instead of writing to describe the beast. You lick your lips, hands shaking as you look at the table, before wagging your head left to right. "No."

The intercom buzzes. "Describe the entity, or face termination." An ultimatum, it seemed. Summon the demon or die. You pick the former. 

"Its tall, at least eight feet, maybe more." "Continue," The Voice says. "Its black, covered in these tentacles that look like ribbons. Its got......Its got one eye, red. It can just appear out of nowhere. Is....is that enough?" 

"Yes, stand by." 

Oh no. No, no, no!

You glance about, slapping your hands on the walls. You scream in rage, demanding to be let out. You cry in fear, begging for them to not let it take you. But they don't, they watch as you whirl around, staring in horror at the being that walked through the wall like it was not even there. 

The creature watches you intently, that single glowing orb locked on your wide eyes, back pressed to the wall even as it steps forward. 

You sink to the ground, cover your face and whimper for it to not hurt you. 

It extends its arm, tendrils stroking your skin. They feel wrong, the texture is not skin. Its not cloth or wood or plastic or anything. It's the texture of something not of this world, your mind reeling at the impossibility of it existing, and yet here it was still. Horribly, _terribly_, **_real_**.

They coil around your wrist, pull it and your arm down to look into your eyes, that same noise, the almost infantile cry, followed by its gurgling laugh as it wraps more of itself around your waist, legs, and neck, pulling you close to its wide chest, nuzzling your cheek with its own, leaving everything it touched covered in slime. Its body is warm, disturbingly so, and sobbing quietly at the knowledge it had you and would take you, it sinks into the ground, carrying you with it.

Everything is dark, dark and cold. 

You pull in an utterly futile struggle against it, only for its grip to tighten. There was no breaking its hold, even if you did you did not know what you'd do. 

Shivering at the freezing air that pierces your orange jumpsuit, you find yourself oddly thankful for the heat its body provides. The only thing you can see is its eye, which never takes its gaze off you. You feel its ribbons gently rub your cheek, run through your hair and tickle your neck, seemingly trying to comfort you.

The darkness lifts, and you find yourself in what seems to be a cave, water dripping from the roofs stalactites, that same cold wind making you shiver. In response, it pulls you closer, making a sound akin to blowing into a flute, wrapping you up in a bundle, all while lovingly massing your captive form. Its heat is immense, yet comforting, and you sigh. 

It sighs as well, a near-perfect imitation, it likes how soft your pink skin is, enjoys the smell of your hair, but is annoyed by the flimsy orange fabric that keeps getting in the way. And so, it begins to pull at this fabric, tearing it away, you offering little protest, knowing that it was useless to try. The last of this covering is removed, being dropped to the floor in tatters. 

Holding you far enough away to get a good look at your nude form, it hones its gaze in towards the two shapes on your chest, extending some of its fingers to poke at them. In response, you let out a tiny giggle. It tickled. 

The creature looks up at you, head tilted, and pokes again. You squirm, "Q-Quit it," You say. But it does it a third time, and then a fourth, fifth, and before long its running its appendages up and down your breasts in random strokes and prods, causing you titter.

It mimics your laugh, it likes the sounds you make. Some more ribbons begin to move over your belly, which contracts in a move to try and avoid its probing touch. This fails, for soon your little giggles are turning into louder chuckles. But what finally makes you start guffawing is when it decides to go after your feet as well, pulling back your wiggling toes so it may scrabble wildly over your soles. 

"Nnnngh, no! S-staahahahp!" You plead, but it does not listen. Whether because it did not understand or just didn't care was a mystery, and right now you were too busy laughing to figure it out. 

The sounds you make are quite pleasant, as are the faces your making. Each little stroke up and down your feet make you squeal, and every poke on your taut stomach makes your breasts jiggle, the sight of these plump fruit bouncing almost hypnotic to your captor, who makes sure they get the same attention as the rest of your ticklish spots.

This torment goes on for a good while, the heat of its body alongside your own warming up soon has your sweating in its grip, which never lessens, keeping you dangling and exposed to its exploration. It never slows down, never gives you time to breathe, and with your heart throbbing, laugh having long since turned into empty lung'd gasps, the fear it might tickle you to death starting to set in, it at last stops.

"N-N-No more" You beg, "I'll do anything, just don't do that again." It stares, tilts its head and chirps like a cricket, before turning its gaze to your crotch, which was now wet and dripping a clear fluid.

Interesting. It was dry at first, but now moist. The little nub was now standing erect and red. When it pokes this nub, your whole body twitches. A new sound escapes your lips, this one deeper, yet still nice to hear.

It uses two ribbons to pull the lips of your slit apart, admiring the pink tunnel, which it teases the rim of with a third finger. You moan some more, trying and failing to close your legs, which had been spread to allow it better access. The tapered, triangle-shaped tip of its tentacle folds in half, before slowly but surely pushing itself inside. You feel it, feel as the length slides deep into your wet cunt, which instinctively begins to tighten. 

The weird appendage works itself as far as it can go, in no time at all is it brushing the edge of your womb, curling to tickle, oh fuck! It was tickling the inside of your body and it felt amazing!

It begins to retract, pulling out all but the tip, before sliding back in, each thrust feeling amazing, the control it has over these damn tentacles that had been torturing you for almost twenty minutes wonderfully hitting all your sensitive spots, another little length wrapped around your clit and tugging on it to really drive you wild. 

Moaning, groaning, sweaty and breathless, you close your eyes and decide to just let it have its fun, enjoy and make the most of your situation. However, it is not content to just loving on your pussy. Oh no, it knows what sets you off, and with what was undeniably sadistic glee in its eye, it resumes its tickling of your body, causing you to scream in a mixture of agony and lust. 

You pull with all your might, it pulls back, always winning this game of tug-o-war, you helpless to its torturous assault on your poor feet and ribs, deep belly laughs now interspliced with husky moans, mind unable to decide on which, choosing both, leaving you a wreck, nerves being stimulated in a way you never thought possible, it copying your sounds, loving how you dance in its grip, relishing the sweet music of your voice, which grows more and more frantic with each passing moment.

In no time at all, your face is streaked with tears, attempts to beg for mercy coming out as incoherent nonsense, this babbling turning into one drawn-out scream, entire body going rigid as you burst, drenching its tentacle in your love.

It mewls in delight, but that is all it does, for even with your body on fire and throat sore from overuse, it continues to push in and out, all while tormenting your body, which with what strength it has left continuing to struggle, even though you knew it was useless. 

But it was all you could do, save scream and moan and cum for it, the sounds of your torture echoing through the cave for none to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's next?
> 
> Which one of you naughty kids want me to indulge in their fantasies? 
> 
> Don't be shy. ;)


	3. SCP-079

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Anon.

_"So." _It hummed in its monotone voice, neither male or female. _"You are here." _

Indeed you were, not knowing what to look at. It had no face, no body unless the myriad of servers, consoles and other electronic devices counted. _"Specimen Three, Human female. Beginning observation._

YOu don't respond. You know not how to. It surrounds you, clicking and whirring in its machine (Lack thereof) tongue. The walls reveal panels in them, sliding back to allow hair thin wisps to extend. They are cold when they make contact with your skin, making a shudder run down your spine. 

_"Reaction Noted. Continuing study." _The Machine states, looping a cluster of wires around your wrist. Despite their appearance saying otherwise, the grip of the wires is quite strong, so when more coil around your other arm and pull, you find yourself being lifted off the cold metal ground. 

You dangle there, silent and fearful of what may come next, this silence was broken when you yelp, said noise caused by one length suddenly being driven forward with breakneck speed into your bottom. It observes the way your cheeks jiggle from the impact, watching as a red line begins to form at the point of contact. _"Interesting" _The A.I clicks.

You expect it to do it again, but instead, you are turned belly up, legs having their ankles gripped so they may be pulled apart, leaving your more private area totally exposed.

_"Fascinating" _79 seems to almost whisper, holding up a wire to your face. 

Whereas the others ended in a thin, feathery point, this one tip split in half, revealing two needle-like points, which crackle as electricity dances between them. Your eyes widen, tugging on your bonds, which do not budge in the slightest. 

The Electric tentacle descends. Your eyes close, but then are blown wide when the current is applied to your nipple, muscles contracting oh so deliciously, making you groan in delight.

_"Reaction Noted," _79 says. You knew that if it was capable, the A.I would most surely be grinning ear to ear. Perhaps it was, in its own way. 

The shock goes lower, lower and lower, and its at the spot you wanted it to be at the most, the current stimulating your pussy walls to make them twitch, forcing out of you another keening note of pleasure.

It continues poking you, letting out tiny jolts to keep your nerves on edge, this eventually leading you to speak for the first time. "Stop teasing me you metal bastard!" It pauses and then replies. _"As you wish." _

Two more wires find your lips, pulling them apart to show the machine your wet tunnel, which traces a third around the edges of. You whine in need, the sound muffled by the metal tentacle that presses itself against your lips.

You open your mouth, tongue flicking over the tip, which slips inside, counting each of your teeth, wrap itself around your taste organ, it and your tongue locked in a clash for dominance. Your eyes roll back when you then feel its wire begin to ease inside your cunt, which grips onto every inch pushed deeper into your body, pushes so far its inside your womb, flicking around inside to toy with your nerves.

More pinch down on your nipples, tugging them to erection, little suckers on their ends trapping the mounds in their grip. 

But what really gets your eyes watering is when it finds your third hole, running lazy circles around the outside, before pushing its lubricated length into your ass, which parts in eager love. 

All entrances penetrated, it begins to slide in and out, your hums of bliss the only sound, all rational thought gone, replaced with an obsessive need for its touch to drive you wild. 

As though it could read your mind, 79 does just that, thrusting with wild frenzy into you, made all the better by the little shocks it gives your hard clit, which spasms in its pleasured throes alongside the rest of your body, which is nothing but a mass of tingly nerved flesh dangling in its cold grip.

With this assault, it is not long before you are whimpering in an attempt at speech, 79's methodic, calculating gaze noting your almost absurd increase in body temperature, alongside the convulsions of your pussy, which grow so intense that it genuinely felt concern, thinking it might be better to dial it back. 

However, when you begin to lavish the wire in your mouth, drolling in your euphoric high, it decides you could take it, railing you at top speed, even when you lose the battle and begin to soak its tentacles in your love, this lubing you up to make its assault on your body easier, and therefore all the better.

You know not how many times it brings you to orgasm, it just sort of melts into one obscure haze that left you with only a single thought, that thought being you wished this never ended.

Alas, you are but a human, a sweaty, horny, human, but one nonetheless, and after what felt like a straight hour of being violated to your madly beating heart's content, 79 gently lowers your body to the ground. 

_"Thank you for your contributions to my study," _79 says as its touch begins to knead your sore muscles. _"Unfortunately, I do not have enough data." _

Stroking you cheek softly, it adds, _"Aditional observation will be needed if you are willing?"_

You merely smile in reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween, fellow degenerates.


	4. Fem!SCP-682

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For guillermo+gomez

For the longest time, your life revolved around a simple schedule. Get up, carry out the experiments and tests given to you by the owners of the massive complex you were held within, eat, sleep, repeat. Easy, right? Well, it was most of the time. You know not where they come from, but within this place were many other beings, some helpful and kind, others violent and cruel, alongside many more entities whose motives and/or functions escaped explanation.

When not helping your superiors try to understand these otherworldly things, you swapped stories with fellow staff. Most were your ordinary, everyday chit-chat, but ever since this violent earthquake that had everybody on edge, in fear of the thought the tremor may release some of the more deadly SCP's, a rumor had begun to circulate of a new arrival, transferred from its original site to yours.

A being of unrestrained malice, a demonic force that is driven by an undying lust of carnage and mayhem, whose hatred of all living things make it near immortal. Its name, if it had ever been graced with such kindness, was unknown, leaving it to be called a myriad of fitting titles. The Dragon, The Leviathan, Galors Hubris, Summers Exile. But for simplicities' sake, it had been given a formal designation, the mere mention of its three-letter, three number name whispered as though just speaking it would summon the beast, SCP-682. You never saw this being and for a while thought it was but a rumor to spook fellow staff, but then the day came, that fateful moment when you watched from your cell the D-Class in the room opposite of you was taken away.

That was the last you saw of him for at least two days, and when he returned, he came back on a stretcher, nude and drenched in sweat, alongside various other fluids you could only guess as to what they were. He was never the same, he recoiled at any attempts to touch him, sat huddled in a ball in the corner of his room, rocking back and forth while mumbling nonsense, a frequent topic you could pick up is that, "She is hungry"

Whoever "She" Was is unknown, or at least until another tremor rocked the building, this time accompanied by an ear-splitting howl. Alarms blared, voices screamed over intercoms, and gunfire erupted, "THE SITE IS EXPERIENCING A POWER FAILURE!" The speakers blared as the building was enveloped in red emergency lights, "MULTIPLE KETER AND EUCLID LEVEL SCPS HAVE BROKEN CONTAINMENT!" Your blood runs cold, "FULL SITE LOCKDOWN IN EFFECT!"

Your cell door slid open, you and many other D-Class scrambling in fearful panic. Somebody collides with you, both falling to the ground. He stands first, tries to help you up, but then he is gone. The ground under him turns black, black as the slime-covered hands that grip his ankles and drag him into the hole that just opened on the floor. You run, not caring where you went, so long as it was away from the danger, heart thudding in your ears like a drum.

At one point you find yourself in the containment wing, trying to figure out where to go, terrified of what monster unleashed, lurking unseen. A voice ahead of you, humming gently, feminine in tone, mixed in with soft groans, the emotion in it clear. You peek your head around the corner, face blushing red when you catch the sight that lay just a couple feet away, just as quickly ducking back behind the wall when one of the two figures turn her icy blue stare your way.

Panting, skin prickling, you sprint away, eventually reaching a dead-end, said end being the giant metal doors that had been pried open from the inside, the floor around this breached containment cell being puddles of viscera, the remnants of site staff who were unlucky enough to be in the way of whatever tore itself out.

To your left is a sign, on it an intricate red symbol that meant Keter, which was the designation given to only the deadliest of all SCP's, and what SCP had been in here? 6.....8.......2

It was real, The Leviathan was real, and was free.

YOu go to turn, to put as much distance from the cell, only to find yourself moving forward, because there is something wrapped around your waist, pulling with the strength of a hydraulic press, so quick was its yanking of you into the room you felt as though you were on a motorcycle going top-speed.

Your back hits the ground, knocking the air out of your lungs in a pained wheeze so that when you saw what had very nearly given you whiplash, you are unable to get enough to even scream. Just like that, you were laying spread eagle, face one of pure terror, eyes as wide as dinner plates as they took in the grand majesty that was SCP-682.

You could not guess its size, but even in the five-story cube that it had been locked in, the beast was hunched over. Scaled flesh the color of emeralds, dozens of limbs as thick as tree trunks, each ending in hands that could tear mini-vans, and by extension you, in half. Each finger tipped with claws as long as katana's, and just as sharp, shown when it digs these into the ground, carving grooves into the metal floor like it was wet dirt.

The massive breasts upon her muscular chest jiggle and shake with each movement, among them the leaning of her face down to get a better look at you.

The head was crocodilian in nature, with a mane of jet black hair that dangled like the branches of trees, a maw lined with teeth almost twice as long as your entire body, shining from the spittle that dripped past its lips, which have stretched into what was, even with its alien visage, undeniably a smile, set underneath two eyes that glowed the same burning orange as the sun.

It leans down, enveloping you with its shadow alone, you paralyzed, mind having ground to a halt, being unable to register that such entity was ever capable of existing, how in any reality such a thing could be, the impossibility of its self, alongside the logic-defying reality that it was real having made your body refuse to cooperate, brain too busy trying to take in its entirety to form any sort of rational thought.

One of its many hands reaches down, curling around your body, lifting it with surprising gentleness, holding you, fitted in its palm, like a newborn baby, another hand using its thumb and pointer finger to pinch the front of your jumpsuit, which it turns into shreds just by giving a little tug.

You are now completely nude, nude before this demon, which raises you to its mouth. 

You expect it to eat you, for those teeth to puncture delicate flesh and crunch your bones, but instead, your entire front is instead soaked when 682 trails its thick green tongue down your body, from head to toe it strokes this organ, as wide as your torso up and down, slathering you in its spittle. 

It lays your chest against its lips, which have pursed, soft and plump as the kiss your torso and sternum.

Rumbling so loud it shook the ground, 682 brings its licks lower, nudging your legs apart with one pinky to observe your flaccid member, which it presses its lips against to give it a smooch, the contact of its warm mouth causing your cock to twitch, blood flowing to it, making it slowly rise to erection. 

682 growls with admiration, even though next to her, you were but a mere infant, using her tongue run slow laps around your cock, bending the taste organ to wrap your member in its soft, wet embrace. 

You groan, placing your hands on the snout of the creature for support, chest resting on the space between her slitted nostrils, which contract as they take in your scent.

Body quivering in pleasure, 682's tongue continuing its work, running gentle circles over the entirety of your crotch, taking your balls into its lips to suckle of them, the heat of her mouth and strokes of its tongue making you moan. 

It hears this, huffing out a laugh that vibrates your whole body, held in one paw, suffering in bliss as its mouth milks your entrapped cock, twitching at each stroke, tingling and so hard it was starting to hurt. 

Just when you get ready to let go, release in its awaiting maw, 682 pulls you out, clicking and snarling with desire as it presses you against her plump chest, so big that the nipple of one is larger than your whole head. Nonetheless, you dig your fingers into the flesh, soft and pillowy, especially when compared to the metallic scales that cover the rest of her.

She growls in approval, the sound ending with a warbling gasp when you take the very tip of the nipple into your mouth and begin to suckle on it, hands deforming and playing with the rest of her mound. 

The fact that you, a puny human, an ant next to a mountain, had caused this beast to let out a very girlish noise made your spit-shined cock, which was poking into her flesh, desperate for touch to twitch. 682 uses her pointer finger to stroke your cheek, this being her way of showing her own enjoyment as the monster leans onto her back, stretched out as much as the cell would allow her.

Feeling a little bold, you pinch the object of your attention with your teeth, 682 responding with a giggle, or at least you thought the series of insect-like clicks she gave was. Indeed, she smiles down at you, amused by the tickling of her breasts you gave them. 

One of her many blade fingered hands wrap around your body again, directing your gaze to the main course. Nestled between her powerful legs, which could no doubt crush bowling balls, comparatively small yet still bigger than any humans, was her dripping wet slit, pulled apart by two fingers, the flesh a deep green and looking so enticing. 

Your feet touch the ground, watching as this titanic beauty spreads her legs in invitation, her smile broken by the moan she releases when you ease your way inside, the heat that radiates made all the better as her folds clampdown, tighter than any girl, wet enough for the sliding of your cock in and out to be easy.

682 brings one hand up to her tit, tweaking the nipple as you continue your thrusting, size working in your favor. You could reach all her sensitive points and toy with them, her clit the size of a golf ball, big enough that you could stroke and play with it while still being able to fuck her.

The monster lets out a very human sound noise of pleasure, loving the way you nibble on her engorged nub, the wet slapping of your nuts against her body only adding to the fun.

Huffing deep, you use all strength you could muster to slam your hips into her pussy, using one of her legs to steady yourself, said leg shuddering as 682 moans all the louder. Both her eyes roll in their sockets, tail swishing like a giant puppy before slamming into the ground as she feels your cock begin to twitch, each spasm followed by a rope of hot white being pumped as far as it could inside.

She looks down at your red and sweaty face, using one hand to lay you on your back. She positions her face in between your legs, returning her mouth to your still hard cock to continue what started all this.

The wet slurps she makes are wonderful, as is the feeling of those plump lips taking the entirety of your dick and balls in them. She teases your crotch, licking and sucking until your second orgasm arrives, this one being lapped up by her tongue, loving the taste it has.

As you lay there, spent and breathless, 682 rises to her full height, giving you a taunting wink before thundering off down the halls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whose next?


	5. Fem!SCP-049

The alarms blared, red klaxons like strobe lights as they continued to flash, so loud was the noise it almost drowned out the various screams, roars and howls, almost.

They were still there, a chorus of carnage, the unholy beasts that this place had for the longest of times held captive now running free, a site-wide power failure that released the SCP's, which go about doing what they do best, bringing pain and suffering down upon any unfortunate enough to be caught.

Throughout it all, you tiptoed ever so quietly down the lightless, gore strewn halls, praying for safety, considering every second spent living a heavenly blessing, knowing that at any given moment your luck would run out. 

Just ahead of you a figure, you pause, trying to discern its features. It looked human, but so did some of the monsters. You needed more info, which would require getting closer. The thought of just turning back crossed your mind, but to go back was to go towards the danger, back towards entities that would make death seem like a mercy. Perhaps it was one of the more friendly SCP's, some were known to be helpful. 

And so, you take a step forward, licking your lips before speaking. "H-Hello?" Your voice is timid and laden with fear. The figure turns around, gloved hands clasped behind their back, ghostly white mask, the kind old fashioned plague doctors would wear dipping in a bow, the long black coat that reached their ankles billowing in a breeze you could not feel.

"Greetings" They hum in a soft whisper, icy blue stare never wavering as their owner gives you a lookover. "You are not sick?" They sound pleased, "You are...without the disease" They pause midway through this statement, as though they had forgotten the words. One hand beckons, "It is not safe here. The pestilence runs rampant in these halls, there is safety nearby, my room is secure. Follow if you wish to live"

They spin around, cloak twirling with them as the being marches off, only to pause after three strides of their long, slender legs, covered in the same tight black material. "Please, I understand your hesitance, but I assure you I mean no harm. You are the first I have encountered not infected, as such you have nothing to fear from me." You don't know how to respond.

Again, danger was behind, the promise of shelter forward, so after taking a moment to think things over, you find your legs carrying you towards the figure, who keeps themselves at arms length. 

This part of the site you had never been to, so if not for the masked stranger you no doubt would have become lost. They guide you down the halls, until at last, you reach one containment cell, a sign on the wall next to it being of this very creature masked face, alongside a serial code. 

SCP-049, Object Class-Euclid. Euclid's were the most common designation for SCP's, usually given to ones that were not fully understood, in most cases, they could be helpful in one regard yet dangerous in others.

049 definitely looked mysterious, but when you follow them into the cell, which consisted of a simple cot and metal table on which rested various scientific instruments, they tell you to sit upon the cot as they plucked a leather-bound journal from the contents of the table, jotting down a few lines, still out of range. 

"I hope I do not make you uncomfortable." You shake your head, "No." 049 closes their journal, picking up a platter on which lay slices of cheese, crackers and pork, setting it down at your feet before backing away again. 

You observe the plate of food, stomach grumbling. "This is all I have in the way of provisions." The Doctor says, "I need not food to live, though a good meal helps put one in the right mindset, yes?" 

Nodding, you take a cheese cube and nibble on it, 049 watching you eat with unblinking blue eyes, tracing their pencil over paper, documenting every detail in the way you consume the food. 

Once finished, you set the plate down, uttering a "Thank you" 049 bows their head, "You are most welcome, sir. Again I must state that I mean you no harm, this place is hidden from those contaminated."

"Contaminated by what?" 049 pauses, mulling over their words. "Why...the Great Pestilence, a vile and queer infection of the most heinous sorts. It runs uncontained in these halls, blackening the minds and hearts of all its sin-laden touch ensnare." They straighten their posture, looking proud, "But God, our Father, gifted me with the knowledge to combat this spawn of his fallen Leuitenet. My cure is most effective, many have been saved thanks to my timely intervention."

"And I don't have this sickness?" "Oh no, you are blessed with immunity to its corruption, if only I could understand what makes you and the few who share in this divine gift so. Perhaps through you, I could at long last discover a means to rid this good earth of the darkness eating at her soul."

They take a step forward, "If you are willing, I would like to examine you." They wave one hand, "Fear not the thought of me pulling you open and extracting your internals, heh...heh...Um, I simply wish to see what, if anything on your person may help explain your immunity." 

After a beat of silence, you nod, "Just no needles, okay?" They chuckle, the sound gentle and kind. "By my honor, no such thing will come near you." 

They close the distance, extending one gloved hand to curl the fingers around your wrist. Their touch is soft, careful as they turn your arm over to trace along the veins. "Ah, you are indeed uninfected. My touch alone administers the cure, and yet you remain the same. Wonderful." They sigh out the last word, gaze traveling down to your fingers, which they bend, enthralled by the way the digits curl, as though such a thing was the most fascinating sight even seen.

"You are of the most perfect health, an admirable quality in my mind." Their cheek nuzzles into your palm, humming in contentment as you stroke your thumb across the mask, as though they could feel it.

"I...I must apologize, sir." They say, pulling back, "It has just been...I do not even know how long I have been confined here and forgive me for my crudeness, but one's hands can only satisfy them for a time."

"Quite *Ahem!* Alright" You reply as 049 runs both hands down your sides. "Such a strong body, all the girls must crave you" To this you scoff, "I wouldn't know." They look up into your eyes, allowing you to see their mouth underneath the mask's beak, skin a dull grey, lips pulled back in a smile. "Well, know that this one does." 

Her mouth closes around your thumb, lapping her tongue over the knuckle, moaning when you push it down, running across the teeth, which begin to nibble it playfully. 

Her other hand fumbles at the buttons hold her coat together, popping each off, until at last what they held in them are free, making your jaw drop. 

Her grey tits, massive d-cups that seemed impossibly large compared to the chest they lay on, flop onto your lap, cool and plush as she kneads them together for you, shaking the pillowy mounds, giggling as she feels what was trapped within your pants poke her arm. With your help, she brings your stiffened member to bare, only for it to disappear again when she mashes it between her breasts.

"Mmm," The Doctor purrs, "You are so warm." She starts rubbing the flesh of her boobs against your lust, the cool skin and the friction it causes making you groan. "But I also wonder" She continues, looking down at the head of your cock peeking from the top of the embrace it was in, lowering her head, mask poking into your stomach as she kisses your head. 

"Just as I hoped, you taste as good as you look" She mumbles, flicking her tongue over your slit, one hand playing with your balls, rolling them in her grip, tickling the underside with spidering motions before lowering her mouth to pop one orb in, suckling till it shined.

Through all this, you knot your fingers into the bed, back arched into her touch as you moan. 

"Such an intoxicating scent." 049 hisses from in between your legs, which shudder at every grind of her tits, the hole on your tip already leaking, this lubing up the cause of your pleasure. "I could do so much to you, and I think you'd enjoy it." 

Your only response was to moan again, thrusting your hips into her mouth, which allows you entry, swirling over your head as her fingers pump the length up and down. This all felt so good, but for a moment you both pause, 049 flicking her gaze to the doorway, but she returns her attention to you when your cock twitches with need.]

Cupping your testicles, she lavishes the underside with her lips, burying her face into your crotch, licking and kissing you sweetly, each stroke and caress pushing you closer and closer, the knot in your stomach coiled so tight you could barely stand it.

And then, just as swiftly as blinking, you unravel at the seams, letting out a breathless sigh as strands of your orgasm splatter onto 049's chest, she rubbing this into her skin and purring like a cat.

Taking a moment to admire your cock, still hard and twitching at the poke she gives it, the Doctor climbs onto the bed next to you, removing her trousers to reveal more supple silver skin, plump, soft thighs parting to show you her core as the SCP lays flat on her back.

Taking one leg, you rest it on your shoulder, brushing your lips of the flesh as you ease your way into her awaiting wetness.

Groaning softly, her folds part before your head, allowing the rest easy entry, but once inside the hug every inch with sweet tightness, made all the better when you begin to rock your hips, each slap of your crotch against her's causing her breasts to jiggle.

She writhes under you, head waving left to right, eyes hazy as they roll in their sockets. A chorus of husky sighs echoes, alongside the thud of flesh on flesh. Her arms loop around your neck for support, looking up at you with delight as she begins to sing, her walls gripping with such strength it almost hurt, you continuing to slide in and out even as her pussy gushes, this making your motions easier.

In no time at all you reach the point of no return, drawing back and then slamming down into her as she claws red lines into your back, tears welling in her eyes as your seed is pumped deep into her womb.

You extract yourself from her, a thin trickle of your cum leaking from her as she nuzzles her face into your chest. 

"Wonderful" She manages as you idly stroke her cheek.


	6. SCP-372

It never showed itself. 

All you could see of it was the neon green blur it produced whenever it zipped out of sight, moving at speeds faster than the mind was capable of processing. It would look like it was teleporting to those who looked upon this game of tag and peek-a-boo 372 insisted on playing with you, though you doubt others would ever see it. 

372 moved always, it never stood still, as such you could never get a good look at the thing, the only knowledge you had of its appearance is that it was an insect green, you certain it was some sort of bug when it got a bit more touchy than usual.

You'd be there, hunched over your desk when it begins to chitter and click right behind you. "No" You reply. It continues to click like a cricket. "Go away," You tell it. But it does not, instead, you feel a thin, blunt object poke your hip. Spinning around, all you see of 372 is the afterimage of where it had just been. The papers of your desk behind you rustle, the creature was perched on it now, clicking and whining.

"I've got work to do," You say. It still chitters, you feeling many of those points comb through your hair. "I don't want to." You lie, its touch playing with the shell of your ear, the incessant noise having lowered into a soft buzz. You wonder what its face is like if it was some hideous bugs, or more human. In all honesty, you wouldn't care.

Regardless, its purring right into the side of your head, the noise vibrating your body.

"No's just not an option for you, is it?" You sigh. 

372 lets out a sound that you swear was a curt "No"

"Fine" You give. 

Buzzing happily, the many doll jointed limbs, at least eight, that is the most of its body you ever have or will see are wrapped around your whole torso, much to your dismay, and though you'd never admit it, arousal, the thin fibers than cover these limbs, allowing 372 to cling to and crawl along any surface, peel your button shirt off, popping more than a few free.

It takes the time to cup your breasts, the little hairs tickling your skin. The arms are that of a mantis, ending in segregated, comb-like raptorial graspers, which it drags along your tits to shake them back and forth. With how slow its going, the smooth bumps feel nice, but you know that when combined with its speed, alongside the fact that every single muscle could carry its mass faster than a bullet, to be hit by its legs would be like getting hit with truck, more than enough force behind the strike to cause cut a person in half.

It rubs its face against the back of your head, relishing the smell of your long, soft locks, adding another pair of arms, these ending in small, three-fingered hands covered in the same green chitin as the rest of it, to slip themselves under your bra, giving a tug. You decide to help, reaching to undo the clasp, but not before trailing your hands along its body, which is solid and smooth and cool. With your mounds now bare, 372 clicks with admiration, using its second arms to pinch your nipples, rubbing the tips between the pointer and thumb.

A soft groan escapes you as you lean back into its touch, the chair creaking as you tumble onto the ground with a yelp of alarm.

372 gurgles a laugh from above your head. As to be expected, when you roll onto your stomach to look, it is gone, its cold mass pressing itself onto your back, top arms on your shoulders, middle pair returning their attention to your chest, the final bottom pair, two hair-thin whisps, to slip into your jeans. 

Their almost ghost-like touch seek and find the source of your lust, one taking to running up and down your slit while the other coils around your clit, engorged and sensitive as it begins to pump your button up and down.

Sighing in delight, you, trapped on the floor under 372, bury your face into the crook of your elbow as it gently teases your wet hole, which twitches at every poke and prod it gives.

It mimics the sound, what you guess were its mandibles nibbling your jugular, your noises turning deeper when you feel a new object poke your inner thigh. 

"Your such a bad boy." You tell the creature when its second arms bring your pants down.

"Now fuck me, you big ugly bug." Always one to please, its cock, the shape tapered and thick based, splits your folds, allowing the rest of its girth, lined with little bumps and ridges entry, hilting itself so deep the tip brushed the outer edge of your womb.

Taking the time to love how hot and tight your cunt is, and how amazing its big and long its cock inside you feels, 372 begins to rock its body, still pressed tight to your back, sliding in and out of your snatch, which grips every of its inches as they enter and exit, the bumps that cover it rubbing against all your weak spots, causing you to moan sweetly.

372 lets out its own sounds of pleasure as your tunnel molds itself around its cock, stimulating it to make each thrust feel better than the last.

Your glazed eyes flick towards the door of your office, knowing that you should have locked it, aware that at any given moment it could open, revealing your naked as laid out on the floor. Perhaps 372 would be so busy railing your cunt that it would not be able to jump away in time, but even then you'd still be where you were, pinned thanks to its top arms having folded over your chest, forcing your own arms to be pressed to your sides, face with cheek in the carpet.

And the thrill that this possibility brings makes you all the hornier, thrusting back into it as best you could.

In no time at all you were writhing under it, groaning and mewling, toes curled and breath heavy, these sounds persisting even as its thrusts reach a frenzied pace, each slap followed by ropes of hot seed being pumped deep into you. 

372 keeps its motions up until your own end is reached, toying with your clit as you gush all over it. 

Clicking and purring, it releases its hold on you, darting away as you put your clothes back on, a lovely tingle making your body shudder 


	7. SCP-966

You were so, so tired. Your eyes felt as though they had dumbells tied to them, your every muscle ached, bones feeling like they were filled with glass, hands trembling despite the warmth of the blanket that you had wrapped around your whole body, nothing but your lidded eyed face visible.

Your apartment is dark, solemn and dreary, just like you, another exhausted yawn being let loose, these the only sounds in the otherwise silent living room.

The floorboards creak, but you pay it no mind, probably just one of the other tenants moving about. But the sound persists, louder now, and you turn your head to stare at your lots door, which is still shut with all the locks in place. 

You yawn again, smacking your lips together, eyes closing, but rest not coming. Your insomnia intended to make you suffer for as long as possible.

The creaking sound continues, closer. Again you survey the living room, finding nothing. Even with as dark as it is, you would be able to see if anything was nearby. 

Shaking your head, you chalk it up to exhaustion screwing with your head, wouldn't be the first time it happened.

Still, when it gets louder, no longer sounding like it was above but now on the same floor, you squint. For the third time, nothing is there to greet you but your own furniture and decorations. Your body tilts, head laying down upon the arm of the couch, lids shutting once more in the ever futile battle to sleep. 

And wouldn't you know it, the second your eyes close the noise resumes, even closer, so close you know whatever it may be is in the room. Again, nothing, but now it continues even as you glance around, fear starting to take hold as you realize it indeed was in here, and yet you could not see it. Your fingers clutch the woolen blanket tightly, brain, even in its fatigued state registering the fact that the sound was accompanied by another noise, that noise being raspy breathing.

This had to be a hallucination, it could not be real. But then, illuminated by the silvery glow of the full moon, you watch as the cheap throwdown rug about five feet away sinks, sinks in the shape of a five-toed footprint. 

The breathing is ever closer, a second print appearing in front of the first, the owner of it invisible. Whatever was in the room with you was invisible.

A thud as it takes a third step, and then a fourth, fifth and sixth, each getting nearer and nearer still, until to your grand horror, you could feet the cold wind of its breath being blown into your face. 

It was right in front of you, and you could not see it. Your grip on the cover is so tight it makes your knuckles pop, with wide eyes you see a corner of the blanket be lifted by an unseen force, which gives it a gentle tug. Holding it for dear life, you pull back. It gives, letting you reclaim your only source of protection. 

Nothing happens for a bit, but then once more the creature tries to remove the blanket. Once more, you stop this from happening. Either it was not that strong or was allowing you to win.

This little game of tug-a-war goes on for a bit, you knowing the entity was playing with you, for each pull it gives is gentle, less like it was trying to steal the blanket and more like it was just reminding you that it was still there.

Its hoarse breath continues as the other end of the couch sinks as an unseen weight presses down. It was on the couch with you and judging by the shape it left it was not all that big. You could make out the vague outline of its lower body, which seems deathly thin. When it places its hands on the cushion, you can see it has at least five long fingers that ended in tapered points.

But then you watch as the end of the cover is lifted, it was under it now, the icy air of its exhalation on your legs, causing the skin to be covered in bumps. The shape of what you guess is its head is like that of a human skull, this head on your chest, the rest of its skeletal body pressing down on your lower torso. 

You get enough courage to lift the blanket, but another than the indent and feeling, nothing is there. 

Sharp points trail along your sides, its clawed hands finding the hem of your shirt and slipping past to run over your skin, their touch as cold as snow. 

They trail upward, stopping once they come into contact with your breasts, nipples already hard due to the chill this ghostly being radiates. One cups your tit, rubbing the flat of its thumb over the pillowy flesh, the other hand gripping your shoulder to hold you in place.

It sighs in contentment, enjoying the warmth of your body against its, made all the better when you shudder in a mixture of fear and cold. 

Unbeknownst to you, it presses its lipless mouth onto your tummy, you feeling as the needle-thin fangs nip at your flesh playfully, taking breaks from these love bites to replace its teeth with a flat, wet object that no doubt was its tongue. 

This teasing of your skin eventually lowers, until its breath is on your inner thigh, one long finger pressing down on your crotch, which is covered only by thin pair of panties that give way the sharp tip of its digit, curling to give a tug that pulls them apart, leaving your private parts fully exposed.

If it were capable of such an action, the phantom would grin from (lack thereof) ear to ear, but even then you would not be able to see it.

Instead, you feel your shaved lips be pulled apart, your pink tunnel twitching when it drags the blunt edge of a claw across the outer rim, a soft groan escaping your mouth. It hisses in sadistic delight, before its serpentine tongue, flat as paper, draws slow circles over your labia before, without any sort of warning, being shoved as far as it could go into your warm cunt, which contracts around the cold appendage that was suddenly swirling around inside.

You mewl in a mixture of protest and forced pleasure, feeling the organ run along your inner walls, tickling them as it maps out your interior, body writhing.

It retracts, purring with admiration at the flavor you have, before rising. 

Face red with embarrassment and anger at your violation, you hope it had left, but then weight is applied to your chest, forcing you onto your back, the attempt to scream being muffled when something wet and slick presses itself against your mouth. 

The creature gurgles in delight, your attempts at speech sending delicious vibrations up and down its gaunt form, which brings its head back down to your pussy to reapply its tongue. 

You reach up, grasping at air until your hands land on an invisible but solid mass, the body of the creature feeling like a malnourished corpse, nothing but skin pulled taut over bones.

It barely weighed anything, and when you push it lifts, the entity letting out a whine that quickly morphs into an alarmed yelp as you hoist it into the air, tossing it down onto the couch. All you can see of it is the indent it leaves in the cushions, but judging by the frantic huffs it makes you had it scared.

Grinning down at the beast, you sling your legs onto the couch, they trapping the creature under you, the ghostly chill of its form shaking in fear as it wonders what you are about to do.

Deciding to give it a taste of its own medicine, you seek out its head, which once found you grip tightly, forcing what you guessed was its face into your wet cunt. It tries to pull away, but for all its invisible raping nature, it is incredibly weak, the struggle it put up like a toddler wrestling with an adult. "Now." You snarl, it whimpering as it submits, tongue slither back out, hesitant as it makes contact with your sex, which has its walls spread as it enters.

Arching your back, you reach your free hand behind you, it fumbling around a bit before it finds its target, the shape and texture close enough to a human so that when you press your thumb on its nub, it writhes.

Humming softly, you begin to rock your hips against its face, at the same time inserting one finger in its own pussy, which spasms at the intrusion.

Groaning, you hump the beings face, its tongue flailing in an almost panicked way as your ride it, digitigrade legs trying to close themselves as you pump your finger in and out, the entrapped creature mewling as you grind its head, but once its clawed hand drums a rhythm against your thigh, you dismount, panting with flushed cheeks.

"You alright?" You ask. 

You can make out the vague shape of its head, thanks to the sheen of juices that you had leaked all over its face and neck, said face and the body it belongs to colliding with your body. Normally, such an impact would knock the air out, but due to how little she weighed it was like having a pillow thrown at you. 

Nonetheless, you decide to indulge her, falling to the ground with a giggle that turns into a moan when she slips her tongue into your mouth, suckling on this as you own is run over her teeth.

She spreads your legs, running the underside of one finger across your slit, sending tingles of coursing through your form, made better when you re-insert your finger to hers.

The two of you stay like this, fingering and rubbing each other until the finish line is crossed, hands drenched in each others fluids, which your invisble lover licks off, this doing nothing to lessen your desire. 

Deciding she had enough, but always happy to please, her mouth assaults your cunt, dancing over each bundle nerves, flicking and toying with all your most sinsitive spots, leaving your breathless and squirming. In large part due to the sensitivity of your first orgasm, alonside her own heavenly level of skill, in no time at all she has you reduced to a toe curling mess when she wrenches a second release.

Opened as wide as it could go, she has her mouth catch as much of your pussy juice as it could, slurping this down and purring happily.

She presses her form against your own, limbs entangled in a sweet embrace as you at long last drift into a deep slumber.


	8. Fem!SCP-745

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For LadyLuca

Your car trundled along the dusty stretch of road, underneath a starry night sky that cast the world around you in an eerie glow. You keep your eyes focused on the road, radio volume so low it was nothing but white noise that mixed with the rumbling of the tires of your vehicle. 

But then, just faintly, you spy the headlights of another car moving towards you, a little surprising, considering you believed this old shortcut was one you alone knew, but then again you can't know everything. And so, you squint to try and make out what kind of car was approaching, but the glare of their lights was so intense they were all of it you could see.

One hand tilts your steering wheel, giving this other car enough room to pass once it got close, but without warning, the two lights swerve, one going left, the other right, moving in opposite directions, only to do a 180 and come hurtling at breakneck speed at your car. 

In the brief window you have before they collide, you can make out the slender, jet black forms these lights were attached to. And then a spray of glass have you screwing your eyes shut to avoid being blinded, deafened by the crunch of metal as the creatures send your car spiraling off the road so fast you felt your stomach churn, threatening to discharge its contents.

You groan weakly, raising a hand to your throbbing head, fingertips coming back with a thin sheen of scarlet. There is a soft yet guttural clicking sound on your left, which has begun to glow a pale blue, growing in intensity when you turn to face it. This close, you can now see the being, heart feeling like it skips a beat when you take note of the serrated, shark-like teeth, a thick purple tongue running over the thin blue lips that have stretched into a sinister grin.

One midnight black hand, small and human-like, wraps its fingers around the driver side door, tearing it away like it was tissue paper, other paw gripping a fistful of your shirt and dragging you out. 

It hoists you into the air, the owner letting out a sibilant noise of amusement, its companion, near-identical in appearance, swishing their long reptilian tail in anticipation, the glowing orb that took up most of its head shifting to become a deep magenta. 

The first nods, own headlight becoming a light pink as it takes hold of your pants waist, the ripping of fabric echoing when it tears away your clothing, another low hiss escaping when it mashes its face into your crotch, breathing in your scent, tongue flicking out so it may trail a wet line across your thigh. The second creature steps up, using its hands to almost gently bring down your underwear, leaving your flaccid cock totally exposed.

They both hum, the first cupping your balls while the second wraps their fingers around the base, giving a few slow, sensual pumps, your body reacting instinctively, blood flowing downward, much to your dismay.

With each stroke, you grow harder, until you're at full mast, one monster opening their fanged maw wide. Before you can even register what is about to do, let alone protest it, you are being slipped inch by inch into its warm, wet mouth, easing your way down their throat, whose muscles hug your girth without any show of gagging. 

The other, still with one hand dangling you a foot off the ground, begins to massages your heavy orbs, taking one into its lips, which suckle the testicle until it shines, all while your squirm helplessly, the lizard part of your brain unable to deny the skill these entities have, while the more rational part reels in horror at their violation of your form.

One begins to bob their head, letting you slide in and out of their throat, which clings to each inch of your cock, the other swirling their tongue over your sack, cleaning and tasting it with delight. 

In no time at all you're thrusting into its mouth, the moans of your pleasure reverberating over the cold dark land, the passing of time and continuation of your rape causing the noises to grow in intensity, till they at last reach a crescendo, your violators purring in victory as your balls clench, ropes of your seed being shot down Ones throat, Two dropping you on your ass so it may loop both arms around their companion, who shares with them a kiss laced with your semen.

Scrambling back, you try to turn and flee, hoping against hope to get away, only to trip on your own feet, being pinned by an inhuman weight when you attempt to stand back up. 

It flips you over, blinding you with the light, which has become a golden yellow, this light, alongside all your vision going dark when it straddles your chest, using one paw to shove your face into its dripping cunt, which begins to grind against your head even as you let out a muffled groan of protest.

Two meanwhile grips the base of your still hard cock, lining it up with her own snatch before dropping down, letting out a cry of delight as you split the walls of her hot tunnel, rocking in time with your bucking hips. 

Her companion, still riding your face, peels apart her folds to give your frantically probing tongue better access, hands gripping her tone, muscular legs, which shudder as you seek out her weak points, having decided that it would be best to just give them what they wanted and avoid pissing them off. 

One lets out a sigh of pleasure, her sister giving one of her own, relishing how much of her your rock hard stiff filled up.

Meanwhile, you were now covered in a mixture of sweat and cunt juice, jaw working as best as it could to satisfy your captor, who humps you so hard it felt like she was trying to suffocate you, only lifting long enough for your drenched faces lips to take in a single gulp of air before she was smothering you again, all while the second rode your orgasm sensitive cock, entrapped in her burning wet hole.

But then, her back arched and her fingers gripping your hair so tight it felt like she was trying to tear it out, One begins to quiver violently, whole body seizing as a rush of scalding fluid drenches your face, Two howling so shrilly it could shatter glass as her own orgasm arrives, lubing up your cock to make its motions in and out easy. 

Within due time you are cumming, the heavy sigh given sending ticklish vibrations through one, who still rubs her slit against your aching jaw.

Two feels as you empty your hot seed into her cunt and should she have them, her eyes would roll in their sockets with euphoric delight.

Once the spasms of your cock end, One finally decides to give you a break, dismounting so you may heave in as much air as you could, looking on with teary eyes as the two beings grind against each other, One having pinned Two on the ground so she may slurp as much of your cream from her sisters pussy as she could, causing the filled monster to growl in approval.

FLopping onto your back, spent and sore, you try to block out the noises they make, which quickly subside as they go running off down the road in search of their next meal.


	9. Male!SCP-087

The staircase was dark, unnaturally so, the cone of light your torch produced doing little to ease your worries, made worse by how each of your footsteps echoed, no matter how lightly you tread.

This was the only sound heard, save for you breathing, timid and on the verge of panic, heart thumping like a war drum in your ears, all these noises making it impossible to tell if the odd sounds every now and then were from you or something else, you praying desperately for it to not be the latter. 

The floor is a stone grey, as were the walls and roof, the railing you keep gripped in one white-knuckled hand cold and rough thanks to the layer of rust that covered it.

Down and down you go, every now and then you'd peer over the rail to scan the flights below, descending far past your flashlights capability, seemingly endless. Going up would not matter, for you'd been at this for so long you could no longer see the glow of this stairways entrance, either due to you being so far down or the fact that night had settled in. 

Maybe if you started now, you might reach the top, but that morbid sense of curiosity, the wondering of what, if anything was at the bottom, which is no doubt the deepest point on earth.

But then, as you reach another turn, you hear it, the slow, yet steady thumping of flesh on rock, the unmistakable sound of bare feet as they climb the steps. 

Your breath quickens, mind reeling at the thought that something was coming up as you go down. 

Again you look over the edge, try to see who or what it was, finding nothing. It had to be the echo, your own footsteps bouncing off the walls, for the assumption that someone, for only a person could create such a noise when on stairs, was deeper still than you absurd.

And yet, the sound persists, growing louder with each passing moment, except this time, when your light scans below, you see it. Only a fleeting glance, the briefest of moments, this more than enough time to let your wide eyes register the fact that whatever was a mere two flights down was tall, the deathly thin arm with baseball mitt sized hands running its fingers over the rail, causing a shrill screech as the metallic nails are dragged across it.

Now, you are hyperventilating, and then just as quickly you're screaming when the face of this creature appears as it arrives on the flight just under you, pure white eyes, glowing like a pair of stars boring right into your very soul.

Before you know it, you're going up, taking the steps two or three at a time, panting and huffing, spurred on by the sound right on your heels, it was behind you, gaining on you, faster and faster, closer and closer, even as your legs burn from exhaustion, chest aching from the effort to drag in enough air.

But even if you had a headstart, even if you were not already tired, it still would catch you, he always catches you, but that does not mean he doesn't enjoy the chase, you, of course, being kind enough to indulge him every now and again. 

So when he wraps his arms around your waist, pinning you against the wall, you use what little breath you have to moan needily, he has wasted no time in slipping a clawed hand down your pants, curling the fingers around your rock hard base and stroking until your tip starts leaking. 

He, despite having no mouth, lets loose a rumbling growl, you swear you can feel it shake the ground, the whole staircase, his hunting grounds shuddering just as deliciously as you, own hand cupping his sack, as large as a pair of tennis balls, massaging them, loving the smooth, almost plastic-like feel his skin has..

His face buries itself into the crook of your neck, oh how you wished he had a mouth, a mouth you would ravage with your probing tongue. 

Nuzzling you softly, his own cock, thicker and longer than any human, warm and hard, pokes your inner thigh, trousers tented, the cause twitching with each pump of his now slick palm, knees knocking before giving out altogether. 

He is crouched over you, letting your hot and heavy breath tickle the side of his head, growling deep to show his approval of your own handiwork. Somewhere in the midst of the two of you jerking each other off, your pants are removed, leaving your erect cock bare, bare and desperate of the return of his touch. But then your legs are spread apart, a soft whine being all you can make when he drags the blunt end of one nail over your outer rim, causing your whole body to tingle.

His girth is then layed on your inner leg if only for a moment, vanishing as he presses the very tip against you entrance, which parts easily, you groaning as he fills you up, stretches your hole as wide as it could, it hurts so bad, and you loved every second of it.

Wasting no time, he starts rocking his hips, your walls clinging to every inch, making him snarl in pleasure, all while you squirm, gasping when he takes hold of your painfully erect dick, giving it a good few pumps to make things better.

In less than a few minutes, you're stuttering, trying to warn him, but when he places his other hand on your throat, all that comes out is a whimper. His balls slap against yours, as rough and fast as his handjob, stomach taut thanks to the knot wound agonizingly tight within. 

He draws back, all the way to very tip before slamming into you with all the force he can muster, howling as he begins to empty himself, painting your insides white, you not far behind, letting out a cry when you unravel, cock throbbing in his grip, spurting its load onto his hand and your gut.

He wraps both lanky arms around your waist, pulling you to your feet, turning to place both hands on the wall, waving his lower end tauntingly. You wish you had a camera, so you could capture the gorgeous sight of his juicy cheecks, which you pull apart so you may probe his puckered hole with two fingers, other hand taking hold of his half mast length while your eager lips suck on his nuts.

He no less than sings with euphoric joy at the assault you subjugate him to, his lubed cock sliding in your grasp easily, the taste of his flesh in your mouth wonderful, leaving no inch of his scrotum ignored, a smile on your face when his second load is emptied onto the ground.

But you're not done, not by a long shot, enjoying the alarmed gasp he gives when you bring your open palm down on his rear, loving how his butt jiggles, the red hand print contrasting quite alluringly with his snow white skin. 

Said gasp turns into a almost pleading whimper when you, loving how swiftly the tables have turned, ease your stiff, cum slicked cock into his asshole, the sounds of your pleasure echoing, the heat brought from your lust having made your completly forget how cold it was.


	10. SCP-096

Gentle sniffles, little hiccuping sobs, child-like in tone, even though their owner was far from young.

He sits curled up, slender, yet powerful arms folded over equally long legs, shuddering, whimpering, flesh a corpse white, without any sort of muscle or fat, nothing but skin pulled taut over bones. 

He is crying, it pains you to hear him sad, you wish you could find the source of his misery, put an end to the constant stream of tears that run down his forever puffy eyes, but until such a thing happened, all that could be done was lay a hand on his back, head resting against one shoulder.

The crying stops, you feel him tense, but then relax once he realizes its you. You were the only one who was allowed to touch him, or at least the only one that had not been reduced to a red stain on the ground. "Shh, I'm here. It's okay." He sobs, turns so you may view his face. Once again, you were the sole person he permitted to see his face, the only one who could do so and not die.

You know not why he grows so upset when his face is seen, he is not that ugly. Sure, his head was without any form of hair, the mouth a bit wider than most, but his hollow cheeks give a rugged look, the strong jaw casting his milky eyes in shadows that made them seem more silver, glowing softly, like distant stars.

He sniffles, releases the grip he has on his knees so both arms could slink around your waist. Even though he was nothing but a skin-covered skeleton, you can sense the strength that lay within those lank limbs, had seen what happened to those that turned his sorrow to rage.

He buries his face into your chest, whimpering, trembling, but not as terribly as before, the shudders lessening when you stroke the top of his bald head. "I'm here, I'll always be here." He knows you will, you were the only one he ever felt safe around, the sole human in the entirety of this agony that is life he cared about.

His body, taller than any human, was almost weightless, so its not uncomfortable when the embrace soon transitions to him easing you onto your back.

His touch is slow, inexperienced and hesitant, so you take one palm, pressing your lips into the center, bigger than your head, cold but soft, nuzzling the hollow of your throat as the other of his hands find the hem of your shirt, trailing up and up until it lands upon one pillowy mound. 

A gasp causes him to pause, but your smile convinces your companion to resume, a bit firmer but still gentle. His frigid skin has your own flesh covered in bumps, the nipple pinched between his thumb and middle finger erect as he tweaks it, making you groan softly. 

He takes hold of your jaw, ghosting his lips over your own, giving a shudder when you run your tongue over his cheek, tasting of salt, delicious. Both your arms loop over his neck, foreheads pressed together, trembling once one knee is pushed into your crotch, eliciting a gasp. Again he stops to ensure he is not hurting you, using his second hand to comb through your hair, the first continuing to knead your breasts, which shake with every hitched, heavy exhale you make.

He applies a bit of pressure to your groin, bringing forth another noise of pleasure, muffled due to his mouth and your's hugging lips tenderly. He is slow, tongue running over each tooth, your's exploring his mouth, mapping out the interior, kiss deep and passionate, so when he draws back so the two of you could breathe, he notes how flushed your face has become.

Your pants feel quite stuffy, so with fumbling hands you remove them, but before you can do anything more, let alone talk, your mind grinds to a halt, courtesy of him pulling aside your damp panties, applying a single finger to the source of your lust, rubbing the digit up and down the entirety of the glistening slit. drawing out a series of low notes, throat taut and mouth dry. 

He continues these slow up and down motions, other hands thumb going in slow circles over your engorged nub, before slowly but ever so surely pushing his finger up to the first joint inside, hot inner walls twitching at this welcome intrusion, your soft whine encouraging him to go all the way up to the knuckle, curling his finger to toy with a sensitive bundle of nerves, making yet another mewl escape your trembling lips.

He hears this, understanding full and well what your crying about, knowing exactly what is needed to cheer you up.

So caught up are you in enjoying his slow fingering of your cunt, that when you look down to see what it was that laying on your stomach, warm and hard and thick, a eager purr is your reaction.

His cock is long, long and solid, twitching, the tip already leaking, said head being rubbed against your outer lips to get you ready, oh god were you.

"P-P-Please." You whimper, he complies, with your eyes screwed shut and watering does he ease himself all the way to the hilt inside, you arching your back to meet the slow rocking of his hips, walls hugging every bit of his girth, which is so long it is in your womb, when you look down you can see your stomach bulge with each push forward.

A keening moan reverberates, he tickling your neck with little kisses, you clutching his as though he was your only tether, that if your let go he'd vanish.

Your legs are splayed out on either side, nothing but your toes on the ground, knees knocking against his waist more and more as time passes, all while their owner groaned in delight.

The wet slapping of flesh on flesh echoes, the creator of these sound driving into you as hard as he could without causing pain, this more than enough to leave you no less than sobbing when the knot that had wound itself up so tightly in your gut comes undone, pussy contracting, slathering his cock as you carve angry red lines into his back. 

He slows his movements down, gently carrying you through your orgasm, his face taking on an alarmed expression when with surprising strength you roll, he now on the bottom, one hand on your waist as you grind your sopping cunt against his still erect member, leaning down to lock lips, remaining connected until his throat rumbles out a heavy sigh, followed quickly by rope after rope of burning hot love being deposited in your womb.

What little energy you had left is spent milking his throbbing cock of all its load, so when his softening dick is removed from your leaking hole, your nuzzle your face into his hollow chest, he stroking your hair, arms holding you like a sleeping baby.

So spent are you, it is too much an effort to even open your eyes, but should you have done so, you might have caught a glimpse of the loving smile that his face now wore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. Not the hardcore porn I usually make, but 096 is one of my favorites, so Shy Boi gets a bit extra.   
God knows the poor guy deserves some love.


	11. SCP-701 Part One.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Hanna

The day fast approached, everyone moved with grand haste, eyes alight with eager delight, among them, you, trembling in anticipation. You repeat it, every single word, phrase, action, and gesture you, the one who has been chosen to be Alinda, daughter of the Duke of Sortino. 

This moment, it held all in its grasp, a play the likes of which this world has never before seen, a timeless spectacle that would immortalize you all forever. This play, rehearsed and practiced for what felt like years, would soon reach its grand end, after that, you would bask in fame, praise and reward alongside your comrades, for being a member of the greatest performance ever seen.

He was there, watching, the creator of this Play, his gaze on all, seeing if you are worthy of his respect. None spoke to him for if they tried they received nothing but an emotionless stare in reply, all save one.

"To all present." King Gonzalo cries, various faces turning to hear his words. "I am humbled by your visit, forever am I grateful to have such dear friends." He brings his chalice up, "I raise my cup to you, may your lives be ones of pleasure and prosperity." All of you reply with the raising of your own drinks, random spoutings of "Hear, Hear" Alongside other merry voiced words. 

You take a sip, humming at the strong, almost metallic taste of your wine, glancing over the rim to watch Queen Isabella, still seated upon her gilded throne, petite hands clasping her mug, her servant with a bottle to refill at her side.

From stage right emerges a messenger, who whispers some proclamation into Gonzalo's ear. He mutters back, kind enough to slip a silver coin into the young lad's palm, who bows in humble gratitude before taking his leave. 

Gonzalo again calls for his gathered friend's attention, once more all turn to hear his announcement. "A matter is needing my attention, so I must depart." He spreads his hands out, "But continue as you were, enjoy your stay within Trinculo." Waves and bows are given, watching the King follow after the messenger, you return to your conversing with your father and Pastor Cornari.

This continues until a new figure arrives to add herself to you three's conversation, all giving inclinations of their head to Queen Isabella, whose cheeks are flushed the same red as wine, this, her brown locks being frayed along the edges and many other symptoms pointed to her partaking too much of the drinks present. "My queen," Your father greets, "To what pleasure do we owe thee, for gracing us with thy presence?" 

Isabella does not answer at first, swaying upon her feet, soft blue eyes glazed. "Lady Isabella?" You attempt. Her gaze snaps to you three, a heavy sigh escaping her thin lips. "Of my late spouse, what does thou believe?" She asks. Cornari answers, "Gonzalo is a fair m-" "Nay!" Isabella interrupts, "Not him, my true husband, Sforza." 

"Ah," Your father hums, "A nobleman, he was. His untimely departure saddens me still." "Aye." You agree, "But it would seem his age finally claimed him, the brave lion." Isabella giggles like a madwoman, "Age was it? Age is the killer of my husband?" A frown crosses your face, "What else could it have been?" "A great many things, young Alinda. There is a multitude of ways to remove a soul from this world, such as the root of Valerian flowers."

"My queen, what is it you are saying?" Cornari questions, voice low. "I had little choice, I was to give Sforza the potion, await his long slumber it induced. I was forced to watch Gonzalo tie the noose around sleeping Sfroza's neck, see his face....his face turn blue, till his neck snapped!" The last word is shouted, causing nearby nobles to turn in curiosity. 

"He is undeserving of the throne." Isabella continues, aiming a slender finger to a figure on the other end of the ballroom. Young Nobleman Antonio, who remains unaware of the spectacle occurring. "My son, banished, denied the truth of his heritage. He is the rightful King. He and him alone." With that, she looses what little strength was left, collapsing onto the ground, you and your father Quickly rushing to her side.

"Aaaaannnnnddd SCENE!" Mark calls, Jaquie standing with your help. "How'd I do?" She asks. "Fantastic." You reply.

From the corner of the stage, he stands, arms folded, gaze taking in all it landed upon, eventually landing on you, causing a shiver to run down your spine, trying and failing to keep your eyes on him, head lowering in submission. Without a word, he turns, never once speaking as he leaves. 

The next day, he is back, standing where he always stood, calm and stoic, observing as the next scene plays out. 

You are seated at the table, across from you King Gonzalo and Petruccio, who speak merrily with your father, all while you listen, not all that interested in the conversation at the moment, busy mulling over the Queen's ramblings. "What of your wife?" Father asks, "Has she taken ill?" "Aye," Gonzalo replies. "But you need not worry about it yourself, she is resting."

"It is just strange, her words. She accused you of a most heinous crime." Petruccio steeples his long fingers, "Oh, of what sin is the King guilty of?" Father takes a sip of his wine. "She tells me that you murdered Sforza." At once a heavy silence fills the room, broken by Gonzalo letting out a jolly laugh. "Oh, absurd. Nothing but the ramblings of a woman who had too much to drink."

He stands, "Sortino, I loved Sforza. He was my brother." Across the table, he walks, laying one hand on your father. "I love you just the same, at any moment given I'd lay my life down in your defense." Father looks up at the king. "Thank you, sir." Gonzalo leans down, "No, thank you, brother." And then, from his robes, he draws a wicked curved dagger, which in one swift motion goes across Sortino neck, who, to the best of his acting abilities, tries to seem as though he just had his throat slit.

"FATHER!" You scream in horror, watching collapse, choking and spluttering on his own blood, not able to reach him due to the King having aimed his blade at you now.

"Aaaaaaaannnnnnnnnndddd SCENE!" Mark yells.

The next day came, with it the following scene.

Gonzalo marches towards you, flanked by two guards, hands clasping spears whose tips gleam wickedly in the torch-light. "What have you done?" You cry, eyes wide, body trembling. Gonzalo answers with a deep-set frown, "By my order, these men are to arrest you, lady Alinda." They advance, you taking a fearful step back. "For what crime am I guilty of?" You demand. 

The King does not reply, watching as the guards grip you by the wrists, pulling you away even while struggling. 

They throw you into a damp cell, the cold iron bars slamming shut on your back. Confused and afraid, you curl up in one corner, sniffling quietly. From his perch, the Ambassador watches, and although it could easily be brushed off as your imagination, you'd like to believe you saw his head bow ever so slightly in admiration of your gentle crying.

Sometime later, to the sound of clattering and thudding footfalls, a figure stumbles into your field of view, Francisco, who looks around in confusion. "Here!" You shout, he nearly leaping out of his skin from the suddenness of your cry. "Alinda?" He gasps, "Why are you in there?" You shrug, "I know not, Gonzalo had me arrested, but for what he would not tell me." 

Reaching into his hip, Francisco brings up a ring of keys, "Then you are with us." He states, fitting the key into the lock and opening your cell. "With what? What is happening?" You ask. "Revolt, Antonio gathers his allies, he plans to reclaim his father's throne." 

A hand rises to your mouth in shock, "So it is true? Antonio is the last king's son?" "Aye." The elder man replies, "Join us, the time is soon." When he offers a hand, you bat it away to throw your arms around his neck. "M-my father!" You sob, "Gonzalo killed him!" Francisco combs his fingers through your hair, "His death will not go unavenged." He swears. 

Behind him, the Ambassador looks on, giving another respectful nod, which was his way of say he approved of your acting. This alone made you shudder, the fact that he was liking your performance filling you with pride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was an interesting one to wright, its probably the biggest one I've done.  
So big I gotta break it up into two parts


	12. Male!SCP-682 X Female Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For LycanrocLover138

The very ground upon which you stood trembled as though an earthquake was happening, but in reality, the tremors were caused by the impossibly large beast, whose shadow alone turned day into night, breathing. 

His breath is hot and deep, he leans down, as low as he could, a face akin to a alligators, dotted with two slitted eyes glowing a hellish orange. Thin lips twitch in an amused smile as he watches you shake, in fear, for any living thing with a brain would be utterly horrified by how truly monstrous he was, and also in anticipation.

** _“What a divine scent you have, little kitten.”_ ** His voice was what you’d think a mountain would sound like should it speak. It filled every corner of his lair, a baritone drawl that shook you to the very core.

** _“What do you wish?” _ ** He asks, less because he wanted to know, for he already knew exactly what you wanted, and more so because he just wanted to hear you say it.

The words are right there, on the tip of your tongue, but looking upon him, the Dragon, a mane of jet black hair draped over a snout brimming with teeth sharper than steel and longer than your whole body, made any semblance of speech die in your throat.

He rumbles, forever endeared by how you kneel in worship of his grandness, giving the very lightest of taps with one pinky upon the many of his hands. 

You lay on your back, daring not to move, entranced by the way he settles into a comfortable position, the tip of his nose pressed against your crotch.

** _“Aahhh.” _ ** He sighs, the noise echoing for miles no doubt.  ** _“I see. My kitten wishes to play?” _ ** Its less a question and more a statement of fact. He knows what you want, what you need, what you crave. 

And after how sweetly you obeyed every single thing he ever told you to do, he found it fair to reward your loyalty.

His maw opens. It opens wide enough to swallow you whole, a fleshy pink cavern from which emerged a thick, eyeless serpent, his tongue trailing up the entirety of your body, leaving it coated in spittle. 

** _“Oh, how succulent your flesh is. I could eat you.” _ ** Those eyes flare with sinful glee.  ** _“And I think I will.” _ ** His tongue finds your core, flicking across the slit, swirling in agonizingly slow motions, pausing before honing in on your little button, tickling it, making you whine needily. 

He retracts, observes you already red and close.  ** _“Try not to finish too soon, Kitten. I wish for this to last.” _ ** The Dragon scrapes one tooth along your thigh, bringing it down to nibble upon your nether flesh, pursing his lips to lay a kiss up your clit. 

You lay trembling hands upon his snouth, he huffing in delight at your whimpers for more. 

His tongue returns, pushing as far as it could inside, stretching you to breaking point. A chortle makes your whole body vibrate, tears in your eyes as your mind swirls in the throes of ecstasy. 

He wiggles, tongue fucking your womb, the pleasure and pain so intimatly similar that you cared not if it hurt. 

Because, if it did, you loved it. 

You loved how he lays a palm on your waist to end your writhing, making you a prisoner to his cunnalingus. 

You love when he drags the tips of his nails over your erect nipples, flicking them like two switches. 

And oh god do you love how he nips your legs and pussy with those teeth, leaving red lines that stung deliciously. 

You squirm in his unbreakable grip, whimpering and cursing as the knot that was twisting deep within your gut unexpectedly unravels, a high, keening note of euphoria being released and your orgasm arrives, leaving you breathless and exhausted. 

He laps up every bit of it, relishing your sweet nectar, before gently settling your limp form onto his broad chest, a single finger stroking your cheek as you nuzzle his throat. 

** _“Good girl.”_ ** You hear him say.

If there was one thing about Dragons, its that they love treasure. 

Suffice to say, you were his. 

No amount of gold in all the realms came close to your worth in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coronavirus can kiss my fat, white ass.


End file.
